See you in Louisville, Kentucky on October 9–10 for the 2026 O&B Conference.  Find more here

Note: Mahogany Mayfield is leading Power Hour at the Othering & Belonging Conference in Louisville, KY, on Saturday, Oct. 10, from 1:30pm to 2:30pm. Power Hour will feature a set of concurrent spaces designed for one purpose: find a way to plug in and take tangible action to CREATE and COMMIT to something during O&B26. Learn more on our conference agenda page here.


Mahogany Mayfield smiles for a photo while wearing a sweatshirt with "The Sis That Journals" logo on it
Mahogany Mayfield smiles for a photo while wearing a sweatshirt with "The Sis That Journals" logo on it. Photo by Destinee Germany

As part of the O&B 2026 Conference local host committee, Mayfield is connecting her Louisville community to the work ahead

In Louisville, a city defined as much by its vibrant pockets of cultural joy as its deep-seated geographic lines drawn across class and race, Mahogany Mayfield moves with the quiet confidence of someone who knows exactly where her roots are anchored. To understand Mayfield is to understand the city — not the sanitized postcard version, but the living, breathing, neighborhood-centric town where Black women have long cultivated spaces of radical refuge in the shadow of structural neglect.

Mayfield doesn't just talk about community, she breathes it in like Ohio River air. From her early days dancing in neighborhood recitals to her work as a creative professional and founder of The Sis That Journals, she has spent a lifetime mapping the spaces where Black communities in Louisville gather, survive, and flourish. As the Othering & Belonging Institute (OBI) prepares to bring its national conference to Louisville Oct. 9-10, Mayfield stands as both a local anchor and a living blueprint for what true belonging looks like on the ground.

“We're really creating spaces for one another, and creating solutions to the issues we see in our community. Not from a deficit lens, but just from a place of truth,” she said. “And the truth is we are brilliant.”

We recently spoke with Mayfield about her reflections on growing up in a segregated city, the transformative power of putting pen to paper, and how local sisterhood is fueling systemic change and promoting joyful spaces of belonging in Louisville.

Louisville skyline at night.

Louisville skyline at night. Credit: Wikimedia

How did growing up in Louisville shape your early understanding of community and belonging?

Mayfield: From an early age, community has been a real big part of my Louisville experience. So I can think back to participating in free community programs like the LaNita Rocknettes dance company that offered free tap, ballet, jazz, and African dance classes which were predominantly Black. We would host recitals. I would go to Boys and Girls Club, summer camps, things of that nature. So from an early age, I saw my community in action.

And I may have not had the language for it at the time, but I was always part of Louisville's community. And even within my family, we’d host fish fries and barbecues to celebrate an accomplishment or to just hang out. I have always seen Black people coming together and having a good time and creating spaces that center our culture, our joy.

But Louisville is a very segregated city, across race, class and many other facets. Did that impact your experience growing up? 

The segregation, I think, is a big part of a lot of people's local experiences. Both of my parents grew up in predominantly Black areas. But although Louisville is sometimes divided by its neighborhoods, it is still a very community-oriented city.

Having a network is how I was able to know my value at a young age. When you have a youth counselor who can write you a letter of recommendation, when you have a program that's offering resume classes to teenage students, that makes all the difference. 

Photo of a woman journaling on the floor

Photo by Apolonia Guerrero.


In college, I graduated with a liberal studies degree and minored in creative writing and had concentrations in women and gender studies, Pan-African studies, and education. And I titled my major "Teaching Women of the African Diaspora" and everybody was like, "Well, what are you going to do with that?"

Because my childhood was so rooted in community, rooted in being immersed in cultural spaces, Black spaces, I've been able to do just that. So everything that I've done in my career has been — even if it wasn't directly teaching or directly women — it's always been Black-focused, community-focused. And that's a direct reflection of my childhood.

And so that definitely has impacted the work that I'm doing now. From being a youth advocate and community organizer, the value of bringing a sense of belonging to our communities comes not from an approach of deficit, but from the practice of joy and abundance.

How do you reconcile the deep love and joy your hometown brings you with the systemic issues and structural violence it faces?

I like to say that Louisville is like a complicated place. When you look at the deep segregation, when you look at the history of redlining, when you look at structural forces that cause food deserts, and when you look at these really violent structures that are dominating Louisville, it's easy to think, "Well, what's wrong with the Black people in Louisville? Why aren't they doing well?"... 

Exterior view of the Kentucky International Convention Center in Louisville

Exterior view of the Kentucky International Convention Center in Louisville. Credit: KICC

But you can't talk about that without talking about the structural violence that Louisville has operated in for a long time. When you look at youth programs being cut, when you look at city bus routes being cut, when you look at grocery stores being closed, those are all things taking place that shape the city.

I love my city. But when I'm saying I love my city, I'm also acknowledging that Breonna Taylor was murdered here. I'm also acknowledging that David McAtee was murdered here. I'm also acknowledging that our youth are currently being criminalized, like youth leader Armelle Bondonga who is currently being detained by ICE. 

So, there are facets of extreme othering that we need to reconcile with.

 

Community is not this kind of woo-woo thing. Like, no, we're really sticking together. We're really creating spaces for one another. We're really creating solutions to the issues we see in our community.

What led to the creation of The Sis That Journals, and what does journaling mean for you personally?

Journaling for me is the safe space to say whatever it is that I need to say, to feel whatever it is that I need to feel. When it's complicated, when it's problematic, when it's dramatic, when it's joyous — it's a space where I can hold any emotion that I'm feeling. And I don't have to share it with anybody. It's just for me... It's my own little corner.

This is a space where I get to take care of myself, honestly, I think in the most transformative way that I know how. The journals that I design are rooted in sisterhood, joy, and care.

Woman  seated at a table appears to be speaking to others (unseen) in the room

All of the work that I've done — working with organizations, working with Black families, creating youth programs, creating family nights, creating curriculum — all of that set me up for The Sis That Journals. So I think some people may be like, "Dang girl, you just got started with this company, how are you hosting retreats and workshops?" But I'm like, this is the flower of all the seeds that I've planted throughout my career.

As the Othering and Belonging Institute brings its gathering to Louisville, how does your work with The Sis That Journals reflect the core mission of creating belonging?

Community is not this kind of woo-woo thing. Like, no, we're really sticking together. We're really creating spaces for one another. We're really creating solutions to the issues we see in our community, and making the most of the limited resources that we have. And making it look like magic.

With The Sis That Journals, I host different workshops throughout the year. And there's just been a lot of support from Black women who have bought my journals, who have attended my events, donated, and just shown so much love. I feel like it's been really well received. The Sis That Journals is how I create spaces of belonging. This is my way of giving back to my community.

The leader that I am now is because of the leaders that were creating programs when I was a kid — leading free classes and culturally intentional spaces. I feel really fortunate to be a part of this community and see so much positive and really radical work being done.

Having the conference in Louisville just makes sense on a local and national level. Our city is an accurate depiction of what is going on around the country and world. And just like everywhere else, there is a need for deep belonging work to combat strong othering forces.

To be immersed in our complicated but beautiful city will be impactful for everyone.